


First Date

by hit_the_books



Series: SPN Poly Bingo 2017 [25]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Dom Castiel, Facials, First Dates, Kissing, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Sibling Incest, Spanking, Sub Dean Winchester, Sub Sam Winchester, Team Dean's Red Ass, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 17:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11628009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: Animus have got some free time before their next gig. Hanging out in Albuquerque, New Mexico, Dean and Sam decide to finally take Castiel out on his first date with them. But having chosen to watchFantastic Four, really what everyone's looking forward to is what's going to happen afterwards.





	First Date

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for SPN Poly Bingo and the square: Free Space.
> 
> You don't need to have read Animus in order to read this story, but I do hope you do check it out afterwards.
> 
> Well, this is it. My final fic for SPN Poly Bingo. When I started thinking about my Free Space, it was obvious to me that I should use it to help add to the Animus universe. So to newbies: I hope you enjoy it. To [Animus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6737350) fans: I hope you enjoy it, and this tides you over until next month.

“Dean’s looking for you,” Cas announces as he comes to sit on their tour bus. The converted school bus still has the hint of soured milk, all thanks to a bottle of gone off milk that was spilled the previous week. It’s warm in the bus even though it’s parked under a huge old peppercorn that seems out of place in this part of the Albuquerque landscape.

Sam looks up from the blank notebook page he’s been staring at for the past thirty minutes. He’s crowded into one of the few original seats they’ve kept on the bus, feet up on the seat, knees bent, back to the window. He’s in a green t-shirt and torn stone wash blue jeans, feet bare.

“What’s he want?” Sam asks, eyes raking over Castiel appreciatively. The Animus drummer is in a blue dress shirt that’s open from the neck to part way down his chest, and a pair of tight fitting black jeans. Castiel’s dark hair is doing that sexed up thing that Dean and Sam both like.

“Well,” Cas leans over Sam, bracing his hand on the back of the seat, “seeing as how we’ve got the day off, and Balthazar isn’t dragging us to some press event or interviews,” Castiel’s mouth is an inch from Sam’s, “Dean was spitballing some ideas of what to do. Wanted some input.”

Sam raises an eyebrow and starts to answer, but before the first word leaves his mouth, Cas’s lips are on his. Surprise rattles through Sam and then he relaxes, opening his mouth to Cas. He still can’t believe that he and Dean get to have this with Cas, that just a month ago, Cas said, “ _I want us to be more_ ,” on an LA rooftop. It’s been a crazy long month since the launch of their first album.

Castiel’s tongue flicks over Sam’s and it’s automatic the way Sam just drops his notebook, stretches his legs out, and pulls Cas down on him. A lap full of Cas, Sam steadily makes out with him, eager hands feeling under Castiel’s shirt. _There’s no way I’ll ever get use to this_ , Sam thinks as he cups the back of Castiel’s head. Castiel’s thigh is between Sam’s legs, pressing up against Sam’s crotch.

They kiss until their lips are swollen and their hard trapped lengths are begging for release. Finally, Cas pulls away and eyes his handiwork with a mischievous grin. He stands up and holds a hand out to Sam. He grabs it and sits up.

“You better go see what Dean wants,” Cas says, leaning down and picking up Sam’s notebook from the floor. “He’s by the pool.”

“Right, yes.” Sam takes the notebook from Cas and watches his friend, bandmate and lover walk back off the bus.

The bus is parked in a motel parking lot. Sam puts on some red pool shoes and sunglasses, and steps off the bus, heading for the motel pool. They’ve got three rooms, a double queen for Dean, Sam and Cas—their people just assume one of them is sleeping on the couch in the room—a double queen for Balthazar and Benny, and a single queen for Meg.

In two days, Animus will be playing in the Moonlight Theater, following in the footsteps of The Strokes, Rancid, Deftones, Beck and more. Sam tries not to think about this as he heads on through to the motel pool out back. They’re meant to be relaxing and chilling the fuck out—not psyching themselves out. Meant to be keeping things low key and staying out of the limelight, so that Balthazar and Benny have less work to do.

It’s difficult to keep things low key when every teenager in the country seems to buying your debut album. And your Myspace page is blowing up.

Sam brushes his curling hair back behind his ears and finally reaches the motel pool. He grins as he looks at his brother, who’s floating on an inflated blue lounger in the middle of the water.

There’s streaks of green sunscreen on Dean’s freckled cheeks and nose. His only items of attire are a pair of sunglasses, red swimming trunks, and the necklace of the golden figure with horns that Sam gave him one Christmas. For a brief moment, Sam allows his eyes to linger on the sight of the treasure trail starting at Dean’s navel and dipping below his trunks. The hard on that has only just gone down threatens to raise again and Sam looks away.

“Sammy, wanna join me?” Dean looks at Sam over his glasses.

Rolling his eyes, Sam crosses his arms and stays at the side of the pool. “Cas said you wanted to talk?”

Instead of answering him, Dean rolls off the lounger and dives under the water. Sam watches as Dean’s lithe form swims for the edge. He takes a step back as Dean breaks through the surface and grips the edge, sunglasses still on, sunscreen hardly smeared. Dean grins up at Sam.

“Nice view,” Dean observes and gives Sam a suggestive look over his shades.

A blush rises to Sam’s cheeks. “C’mon, what did you want to do?” Sam asks, trying to ignore Dean’s flirtations. _Anyone might see us, Dean. So help me._

“Well, you, Cas...” Dean trails off, voice growing quiet.

Sam kneels down beside the pool and gets as close to Dean as he dares. “Later. But Cas said you wan-”

Dean’s wet hands launch up to Sam and yank him into the cool water. There’s only a split second for Sam to take a breath and he just manages to as he meets the water. World upside down and spinning, Sam tries to right himself, but it’s Dean’s strong hands that pull him along instead.

They don’t surface immediately. Dean’s mouth finds Sam’s and he kisses him deeply while under water. Breathless and dizzy, body warm despite the chill of the pool, Sam wraps himself around Dean, wishing for more there and then. Then Dean drags them up.

“Hhhhhhhhhhhhuuuuuuuuhhhh!” Sam gasps as they break the surface. His lungs are screaming at him, and he’s not sure if his lightheadedness is due to a lack of oxygen or Dean’s kiss. _Probably both_ , Sam decides as the pair of them swim over to the pool’s edge again.

Bobbing along in the water, as the patio meets the pool, Sam turns to Dean and asks, “So, what do you want to do today?”

***

Inside the air conditioned coolness of the movie theater foyer, Castiel looks down at the green plaid, bright blue jeans, black t-shirt and red sneakers he’s been loaned. He can’t remember the last time he wore plaid, it has been a while. Being on the road, being a face of Animus—Castiel tends to wear Castiel of Animus. All dark, tight fitting jeans, dress shirts that hug him in all the right places, and black leather boots with just enough give so can use his drum pedal.

Castiel isn’t sure what he expected his first date with Dean and Sam to be like, but he never envisioned being dressed as he is now. Though what he expected he isn’t sure. He always knew that if they were going to go out in public and act normal, some degree of disguise would be necessary. Sam and Dean are dressed similarly to him. But Castiel knows it’s almost strange to think of the clothes he’s in now as a disguise—much of his childhood and teens was spent wearing such items.

He catches sight of his gelled hair in the side of a soda machine—the gel provided by Dean—and Castiel grimaces. The tamed hair looks alien and unnatural on his head. They already have their tickets, Dean’s in the process of buying snacks and drinks. Castiel reaches a hand up towards his head—Sam snatches his hand and stops him.

“Leave it,” Sam hisses.

“It looks ridiculous.”

“It’s kinda cute, I think.” Sam leans in close to Castiel and whispers in his ear, “But you do look better with it all kinda… messed up. Maybe we could fix it later?”

A shiver runs down Castiel’s spine, while heat pools low in his belly. A tiny bit of Castiel regrets agreeing to go on the date, but the sudden tease of Sam’s breath on his neck suggests that the date might have a second act.

“Yes, maybe,” Castiel replies. Then Dean’s turning to them and asking what snacks they all want.

A few minutes later, they’re sat in the back seats of the screen the movie’s in— _Fantastic Four—_ and have the whole row to themselves. It’s the middle of the day on a Thursday, so Castiel isn’t surprised by this. A few more people sit in a low rows, but no one makes much noise or moves around as the movie begins.

Once they’re through all the ads and trailers, Castiel tries to enjoy the movie, but it quickly becomes apparent that it is no _Batman Begins_. Though he is a little biased towards Nolan’s film, because the three of them had scored tickets to its LA premiere, thanks to a very good friend—right before their album launch party.

It feels like a lifetime ago that the three of them had been in LA at that premiere. A lifetime since he had said yes to Sam and Dean. Castiel suspects that even if he were to live a dozen lifetimes, he will never tire of his friends, bandmates—lovers.

Hands wander into Castiel’s lap and he sucks in a deep breath. He’s lost track of the film already and so the sudden attention is welcome. Dean and Sam stroke his thighs, hands near equal weights. They squeeze and tempt, then Dean turns to Castiel. There’s no way that Castiel can quell the craving he feels in the red laces that Dean bought, so Castiel kisses Dean. He tastes of sweetness, smells of sandalwood. Dean’s lips make Castiel feel unbelievably warm in the chill of the air conditioned theater.

A hand, Sam’s, brushes against Castiel’s cheek and Dean breaks the kiss. Castiel follows Sam’s hand and allows himself to be drawn into a kiss. Sam tastes of salted popcorn, and smells of books. And then Sam breaks away and leans over Castiel. Sucking in a sharp intake of breath, Castiel watches hungrily as the brothers make out. He loves how they share each other with him. He only briefly worries someone might see them as the Dolby sound system kicks further into gear.

Only a few minutes pass while they taste each other. But by the time the three of them look back at the movie, Castiel knows they are all longing to touch _and_ taste each other below the neck. But they keep it in their pants, because anyone might see them, and the last thing their manager needs to be trying to help their agent hold back some kind of scandal from the press.

Castiel knew when he said he wanted to be with Dean and Sam that he would never be able to go public with his love or theirs. Perhaps in pairs the scandal would _only_ rouse the usual elements that didn’t like men being with other men. _But no way would anyone accept me fucking two brothers, who also happen to fuck each other_ , Castiel concludes as he half watches the action on the big screen.

Somehow the three of them manage to make it through to the end of the film without causing a scene. And somehow they manage to walk out of the theater and to the car Benny is waiting in. It’s a hire car, the bus being too obvious to drag along to a movie theater in the middle of the day—not that Benny is subtle in his crisply pressed charcoal gray suit.

“Anyone fancy a late lunch?” Dean asks, stomach growling loudly despite all the popcorn and candy he ate.

“You just ate-” Sam starts.

“That was not proper food, and you know it. C’mon, just a burger and some fries. Somewhere nice,” Dean says for Benny’s benefit. Benny starts the car’s engine and begins to pull out of the theater lot. Dean leans in towards Castiel and whispers just loud enough for him and Sam to here, “But don’t worry, we won’t have dessert there. No, dessert’s waiting back at the motel. Right, Cas?”

“Right.” It’s cheesy, unsubtle as hell, but it has Castiel’s cock aching for the dozenth time today.

***

“Lock the door,” Cas orders. Sam locks it. One kind of hunger has been satisfied, but Dean knows he did suggest dessert after all.

The motel room is cool and welcoming in comparison to the afternoon heat outside. Not that Dean’s against things heating up in the room. Cas is staring at him like he could eat Dean right up. Pick him apart piece by piece and make it feel like he’d gone to heaven. Dean wants that to happen. He wants everything possible, right here and now, but he’d settle for Cas finally putting him in his place. They’d talked about it, agreed before what Cas could start to do with him and Sam.

Surely some mid-range motel in the middle of Albuquerque was a good a place as any to start. The walls to the rooms weren’t nearly as thin as some of the places they had stayed in before.

“Dean are you green?” Cas eventually asks, just as Dean thought nothing was going to happen.

“Yes.”

Cas turns to Sam. “You green, Sam?”

Sam nods. “Yes.”

Cas smiles in a way that makes Dean feel like he is about to be eaten up, just not in away he’s use to. “Strip, both of you.”

Neither of them needs to be told twice. Dean tugs and yanks at his shirts and jeans, kicks off his shoes. Sam wobbles dangerously close to him, but just about manages to stay on his own two feet.

Both of them finally naked, Dean suppresses a groan as he looks at Sam’s hardening cock. His own is chubbing up, the anticipation of what Cas might do is making Dean hard. _C’mon, Cas. Please!_

“Stand in front of that wall.” Cas points a finger at the only wall in the room that had no furniture right up against it.

Dean and Sam step over to it and stand in front of it, backs straight and shoulders level. They aren’t asked to stand up straight, but Dean and Sam consciously decide that that is how it should be done.

“Turn,” Cas commands, “and face the wall.”

Dean pivots on his feet, cock fully hard and curling towards his stomach. It’s almost obscene the way his length is almost touching the wall, there’s less than an inch in it. He sneaks a sideways glance at Sam and finds that his brother is touching the wall with his cock.

A sharp smack snaps across Dean’s left buttock. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t cry. Dean wills his breathing to calm down as the skin of his ass continues to throb.

“I told you to face the wall,” Cas growls. His voice isn’t cruel, but it’s not impressed either.

Dean doesn’t reply, instead continues to look at the wall and only the wall. Silence settles in beside the hum of the room’s air conditioning.

“I’m unsure how the two of you believed you would go unpunished for what you did to me in that movie theater. But understand that your behavior has been noted and I plan to do something about it.” Cas strokes a hand across the small of Dean’s back, then slides it down over Dean’s still stinging cheek. “And if you take this punishment well, then perhaps you will both get to have dessert. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean and Sam say in unison.

“Good.” Cas’s hand leaves Dean’s ass. “I don’t want either of you face planting the wall. Brace yourselves against it, arms above your heads, asses stuck out.”

Following Castiel’s orders, Dean places his palms on the wall and pushes his ass out. He feels vulnerable like this, even though he isn’t tied to the spot. They’d talked about tying him or Sam up, but that was for trying out later. Cas had made it clear that he wanted to keep things simple, so that they didn’t need too much with them on the road. It made sense.

“Both of you are to keep count for yourselves. If you don’t—we go back to the beginning. Clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dean can hear Cas walking around behind him, but Cas makes no move to actually strike either of them. Waiting, Dean tries to stay nearly completely still, the only movement he allows himself is the rising and falling of his chest, and whatever his cock might be doing. He feels a slight wetness on his tip, knows there’s pre-come there. Dean is good, unlike at the theater.

The movement behind Dean stops. There’s nothing and then—Sam stutters beside him as the sound of flesh striking flesh fills the room. His brother, for all Dean can tell as he looks at the wall, manages to stay where he is. Doesn’t slouch or lean, or break Castiel’s limited commands.

“One,” Sam croaks out, voice tight. Dean fights the urges telling him to protect his brother, it’s tough, but somehow he manages.

And then nothing. All that Dean can hear is the aircon and the frantic beating of his heart.

SMACK! Dean strains his arms against the wall, hands not giving in to the need to buckle as Castiel’s hand strikes his right cheek. “One!” Dean bites out, surprised more than hurt.

Castiel’s hand smacks down again in the same place. Dean’s more prepared this time and his arms stay strong as he counts out loud, “Two!”

Again. And again. And again. Castiel’s hand rips across Dean’s backside—he can feel how red his ass is getting, the reddening skin feeling like a small furnace attached to his rear.

Ass stinging, cock aching, mind drifting a little, Dean counts to thirty until Cas switches back to Sam again. Dean has no idea how Cas does it— _surely his hands are stinging by now?_ But then he thinks of the strength and endurance Castiel’s hands must have in order for him to play drums for Animus, and Dean knows that this is barely anything more than what he’s use to playing at most gigs.

“Twenty-eight!” Sam moans some minutes later, voice wrecked. Dean can see in his mind’s eye what Sam’s leaking cock must look like. He wants to actually look, but doesn’t dare.

SMACK! “Twenty-nine!” Sam pants out, voice growing shakier.

SMACK! “Thirty!” Sam gasps. For a second there’s a shift in the air and Dean thinks Sam might fall over, but he remains upright.

“So good, both of you,” Cas praises. There’s the sound of a zipper being pulled open. Shoes hit the floor and fabric scrapes audibly across skin. “Turn around and kneel facing each other,” Cas orders.

Arms heavy, Dean is glad to finally let them down and move his legs, even if it’s only a few steps. Dean’s thoughts collide in his head for a moment and he forgets what he’s meant to be doing as he looks at Cas half-naked. Cock fat and leaking, Dean looks at it hungrily and then remembers he’s meant to be kneeling. He joins Sam on the floor.

Trying not to look too much at Sam’s arousal, or put too much weight on his own ass, Dean waits for Castiel’s next command. Cas steps up beside them, cock hovering near their mouths.

“Look at me.”

Dean and Sam look up at Cas in unison, and Dean swallows. The sight is glorious, Cas half-naked, cock hard and ready, hair finally breaking free from the gel he used earlier.

“You are going to get me off using only _your_ mouths. You may stroke yourselves, but you may not come until after I have done so. And don’t be quiet.” Cas licks his lips. “Enjoy your dessert.”

How they launch forward at the same time and don’t smack into each other’s foreheads—Dean doesn’t know. But within the blink of an eye, he and Sam are on Castiel’s cock, making out around his leaking length. Dean touches himself as he does this, the pressure of his hand and Castiel’s musk making him keen low in his throat.

He can feel Cas looking at them, hear what they do to him as their friend, bandmate, lover and Dom sucks in deep breaths in between pants. Grunts and curses. Dean can feel Castiel trying not to move and seize just one of their mouths to use. And Dean wishes Cas would do that, just fuck his throat raw, but that’s for another time. He contents himself with what he has now.

Catching hints of Sam over the saltiness and maleness of Cas just makes Dean harder in his hand. Dean snatches a glance at Sam and drinks in the sight of his brother. It’s debauched as fuck, the way Sam’s hair is curling everywhere and there’s an almost innocent flush across his face. Dean’s pretty sure he looks similar, though minus the longer hair.

“Good, good boys,” Cas punches out, body starting to tremble. He’s close and Dean can feel the tightening of his own balls. “So… fucking… perfect!” Cas cries and finally comes, spurting over Dean and Sam’s faces.

Even though Cas must be oversensitive, the two of them continue to kiss around his cock and lick it clean. The two of them aren’t far behind, with Sam moaning long and low as Castiel’s cock slips away and Dean sets about licking Cas’s come from Sam’s face—the saltiness spreading over Dean’s tongue. Sam’s body jerks and Dean feels a warm splash of come on his chest. It’s hot and messy, and Dean knows Cas is watching the two of them, memorizing it all for later.

And thinking of that, thinking of Cas watching him with his brother, as Sam licks his face, finally sends Dean over the edge. He spills over his hand and gets some on Sam’s chest. Finally his legs have had enough and Dean falls into Sam. Both of them sprawl on the carpet for a second.

“Beautiful,” Cas praises as he helps to set them to rights, getting them to their feet.

It takes a while to get them clean, their asses covered in lotion, and the three of them squeezed into one of the beds, but Cas manages it. Dean falls asleep in Castiel and Sam’s arms, a little unsure what he’s done to be this lucky.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [dreamsfromthebunker](https://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com/).


End file.
